


some kind of miracle

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Mpreg, Pregnancy, they are cute pregnant buddies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-21 23:31:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They weren't expecting her--Derek hadn't even known that it was a possibility, but after an enlightening (and scarring) check-up and talk with Deaton about right conditions and magical sperm and <i>intent</i>, Stiles couldn't write-off the weird bouts of morning sickness and weird cravings as a fluke anymore--but they have never not wanted her, since.</p>
            </blockquote>





	some kind of miracle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blacktofade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacktofade/gifts).



> this is my first mpreg fic--and actually my first fic that deals with pregnancy, in general. i'm super nervous about this, because i've never written it before, so i'm sorry if this feels stiff in some areas.
> 
> anyway [jo](http://blacktofade.tumblr.com) and i were talking about [this](http://thecorruptedquietone.tumblr.com/post/56950314013/disgustinghuman-planetvalium-a-gathering-of) tumblr post, and she then sent me "all i can imagine is pregnant stiles and pregnant allison doing this together" and alas, this was born. this is heavily revolving around allison/stiles' friendship, but it does contain derek/stiles as well as scott/allison! 
> 
> also! just thought i would mention that i think pregnancy would mellow stiles out considerably, which is why he has a totally different tone here than he does in the series. hope that doesn't bother you all too much!

She comes as a surprise.

They weren't expecting her--Derek hadn't even known that it was a possibility, but after an enlightening (and scarring) check-up and talk with Deaton about right conditions and magical sperm and intent, Stiles couldn't write-off the weird bouts of morning sickness and weird cravings as a fluke anymore--but they have never not wanted her, since.

Stiles' belly is full, warm and soft underneath Derek's calloused hands, and he will never admit to how much he likes the feel of Derek caressing their child, of caressing him. Stiles has never seen Derek so anxiously happy before, bouncing off of the walls rattling about doctor's appointments and baby room colors and what crib will have the right amount of sturdiness for a possible were-baby (Stiles can practically feel her claws slash through his internal organs whenever she kicks, already), but the right amount of comfort for a newborn. He's impossibly infuriating and comforting at the same time, and Stiles gets sick of him more frequently than either of them are used to.

"I'm going to go out," Derek whispers, which Stiles roughly translates as 'I'm going out to go look at cribs and blankets again, and I don't want you to laugh at me for it.' Stiles likes him now, so he leans into the touch.

Stiles fixes him a look, but doesn't say anything, he doesn't say much now, not really. She's calmed him down considerably and he no longer feels the need to fill up entire spaces. He's not sure he likes it, but the feeling of pregnancy is sating enough that he can't find it in him to care.

Stiles hums a kiss to the corner of Derek's mouth, and offers a small, private smile. "Allison's coming over today."

Surprisingly (or unsurprisingly, given Stiles' and Scott's ever-long obsession with outdoing one another), Allison's pregnant, too. Her belly is round and voluptuous like Stiles', but Stiles is slightly bigger. She's even more beautiful now that she's pregnant and he may or may not be a little jealous of her for it.

They do this, now; meet up sometimes in the Hale yard and talk about swollen ankles and how great pickle tastes now that they're pregnant. They talk about the future, about raising their kids together, and Stiles always walks home warm with the feeling of knowing that his girl is going to grow up with his best friend's kid.

"She'd like that," Derek murmurs.

Pregnancy has calmed down Derek, too; he's always been quiet, but he's more careful. Stiles rarely has to worry about finding Derek bleeding on their porch after a pack run gone wrong anymore.

"Yeah," Stiles grins, and then adds, "Tell Scott I said hi."

Derek rubs his face along Stiles' neck, inhaling deeply, and Stiles leans into it, pleased. "I will," he replies, and doesn't comment on how Stiles knew who he was seeing, because in the way that Allison and Stiles have gotten closer, Scott and Derek have, too.

*

Allison is eight months along, and is to the point where Melissa frequently threatens to put her on bed-rest until her due date if she doesn't stop being so active (Allison is even more terrifying with an arrow with a pregnant belly, somehow).

She waddles when she walks, and Stiles finds it adorable, even though he does it too (which is not as adorable, sadly).

"Allison," Stiles greets, warmly, and sits down on one of the benches Derek put out when Stiles whined to him about it for two weeks. It's underneath a canopy of trees, and he likes it out here, where it's quiet and cozy. Derek has often found him out here, half delirious with lack of sleep, a hand curled around a book, with a dying flashlight in the other.

"Stiles," Allison grins, sickly sweet. "How's it going?"

"Ready to get her out," Stiles laughs, though it catches in his throat when he thinks about not having to fend for two, anymore. He's not quite sure he likes it as much as he's supposed to, the thought of no longer being so closely attached to his daughter.

"Yeah," Allison says, "Me too," and she doesn't sound truthful, either.

Stiles latches onto that.

*

They go to the creek a few hundred yards east of the house, because it's hot enough to stick their feet in. They don't always talk, because they don't have to, and Stiles doesn't mind silences so much, anymore. They're not as constricting as they used to be, and he sinks deeper into the security of Allison's company.

They're safe, here.

"We're going to be parents soon," Stiles laughs. If anyone had told him five years ago that when he was twenty-three he'd be pregnant having Derek's kid, he'd probably laugh, and then punch them in the face. But, he's here, now, and he can't imagine himself being anywhere else.

"Yeah," Allison says. "I'm scared, you know? I'm scared that we're going to mess them up. Or, that I'll mess them up."

Stiles shakes his head, and places a gentle hand on her belly--they do that, too, touch each other's bellies. The baby's always kick, like they can sense the touch of a friend. "Nonsense, Al. You'll be a great mother, and Scott will be a great father, and I think this entire damn pack will be shocked if that baby is anything other than perfect," Stiles tells her.

Allison flushes, sticks her feet into the pond. "You will too, you know. Be a great parent, I mean. I can't imagine your kid being anything other than a little shit, though," she says, with a mischievous grin that Stiles feels himself return.

"A brooding little shit," he adds, because Stiles is not actually convinced that their kid won't pop out with Derek's ridiculous eyebrows, perfectly sculpted for brooding.

Allison's laughter echoes through the trees.

*

When Derek is out at work, or is training with the pack, Stiles knits.

It gives him something to do, because he can't go out in public, at least not like he used to, not now, with his stomach protruding so far out that it'd be impossible not to guess that he's carrying a kid. He gets antsy and moody, and orders Derek to sleep on the couch more nights than not; with as much as Derek has changed, he's still an insensitive prick sometimes, and Stiles is a hormonal asshole who can hold a serious grudge--but then there are nights where Stiles creeps out of bed, and pulls a sleepy Derek back into their room, because the pillow Allison got him to hug on the nights when Derek's away isn't quite the same as having Derek's body next to his, wrapped protectively around his stomach.

So, Stiles knits.

He knits baby hats and sweaters and scarves, and a pair of knit shoes for Allison. He knits a wool sweater for Lydia, and a plush beanie for Isaac, and it gets his mind off of how undeniably trapped he is.

*

Allison is sitting on a chair in the Hale library, now, reading a shitty YA dystopian novel that Stiles could never get into, and Stiles is struck frozen by the thought that he never thought he'd get here. He always wanted this, distantly, both a friendship with Allison that extended beyond Scott and kids of his own, but he never expected them to happen so quickly, or together.

And if he listens to Allison's stomach a little longer today, reveling in the little kicks he can feel the slight vibrations of rumble across his cheeks, well then, that is simply because he hasn't done it in a few days, and nothing different.

*

The first time they do it, Derek nearly has an aneurism.

Allison is over, and they're baking cookies; gingerbread and pumpkin. They were his mother's recipe, and he only makes them on special occasions.

He thinks Allison announcing she's pregnant to the pack is a pretty damn special occasion.

"Congratulations, again," Stiles says, and smiles at her, genuinely happy for her. There's a sick, selfish part of him that is happy because his kid won't be alone, anymore.

"Congratulations, too, Stilinski," she grins, and bumps her hips against his own.

The peel of laughter rips out of him without his consent, and he bumps his tummy against hers in retaliation.

"Stiles," Derek growls, in warning, and steps closer, hand protectively curling around his stomach.

Stiles slaps his hands away and glares. "It wasn't even a hard tap, Derek, stop worrying so much."

Derek grumbles, but backs off, nonetheless.

Allison makes sure Derek is looking when she bumps tummies with him again, and he smirks.

*

Every time they're together when Derek is around, they brush their tummies together, because it makes him flush with embarrassment and anger and the sex the night of is always fucking _mind-blowing._

(For both of them.)

Stiles knits her thank-you gloves. Allison wears them the next time she sees him.

*

"We're going to have babies," Stiles repeats, for the third time that night, because it still hasn't really hit him.

"Yeah," Allison says, and hooks her arm through his, and starts leading him toward the creek, again. "We'll end this together, just like we started."

Stiles beams.

**Author's Note:**

> this exists in a universe where stiles' 'spark' reacts especially strongly to derek's werewolf magic. i might flesh out and even longer fic in this universe that deals more with this theory and such, but basically the gist of it is: is that intent (for example, if stiles and derek think about, or confess to wanting kids while fucking, or something along those lines) plays a huge part in it, because intent, and believing play a huge part in stiles' role as a spark.
> 
> anyway!
> 
> feel free to follow me on [tumblr](http://ocrien.tumblr.com/)


End file.
